Rekindled
by Din of Silence
Summary: Galbotarix has been defeated and the other two dragons reclaimed. But soon rumors spread across the land saying that more dragon eggs exist. Can the remaining Riders find them and bring them back to Alagaesia? And what of their riders?
1. Nightmare

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Lightening forked across the sky, immediately followed by resounding thunder that made the entire region tremble. She walked through the desolate village. The dead bodies of her fellow villagers leered at her as she passed.   


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A female's face suddenly stared directly in front of her; the woman's eyes still wide with terror, crimson streaked across her face so it seemed that she'd cried tears of blood. Her mouth gaped, a trickle of blood dripping onto her forest green tunic; soft lips were still twisted in an _expression of pain, anguish, and hatred. Her bloody hand still gripped her sword.   


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She heard movement behind her, and twisted around to face it. Terror gripped her heart at the monsterous demon towering over her. A huge, black form loomed over her. Lightening glinted off of hard, scaly, leathery skin that was tough as steel. Huge wings towered behind the creature; they seemed to be made of fire and shadow. One thick, muscled arm weilded an axe that was even longer than the demon. The fingers gripping the handle of the axe were long and thin, nearly bone-like, ending in deadly sharp black claws. Although it was built in the like of a man, its lower body was raptor-like. Thick, powerful hind legs bent foreward, as though it were meant to be a four legged animal. Unlike a raptor, however, it brandished a long, thin tail that ended in a deadly spike. A dragon-like head stared down at her, twisted ram's horns sticking from the back of it's head. Behind a long, black snout, between smoke curling from slit-like nostrils and over lips twisted in a cruel smile was what captivated her. It had no eyeballs; the fiery inferno that filled it glared from its empty eye sockets.   


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"Kirra!" it screamed as one powerful arm swung the axe over its head and brought it down to crash upon her like a hammer to an anvil, and she leapt to the side, misbalancing and throwing out her arms to break her fall. But when she came to hit the ground, she kept falling. She found herself in the sky, dropping toward a dark expanse below her. Lightening flashed behind her and illuminated a dark forest extending as far as she could see. She landed hard in a small clearing. She stood warily. The trees were so tall that she couldn't see their tops, only blackness. Suddenly, the huge yellow eyes of many giant creatures appeared in a semi-circle in front of her.   


One of the creatues, larger than the rest, emerged from the trees. It was a gargantuan wolf. One eye shone a rank yellow, a cat-like slit its pupil. A white scar showed above its right eye; the eye was a pearlescent white. It was crouched low, its huge paws gripping the ground. Its thin tail lashed across powerful hindquarters. Its fur was black; it rippled and seemed alive as the powerful muscles underneath it flexed and tensed. It growled menacingly. Its upper lip curled into a snarl over yellowed fangs. Its gray-pink tongue lolled out; she could smell its putrid breath from the few feet that separated them. Uncontrollable fear and panic gripped her heart.   


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She turned and ran; the sounds of many padded feet reverberated through the forest as the pack gave chase. She twisted and turned through the forest, plunging deeper into its heart, all the while the trees all appearing the same. She ran with panicked adrenaline, but her pursuers got neither closer nor farther away. Finally, she tripped and fell. Looking ahead, she saw it was a dead end. The wolves circled in around her. She rolled onto her back as the wolf leader approached her. She threw her arms up and gave a small scream as he opened his jaws only inches from her face.   


* * *   


She awoke with a gasp, sitting straight up. Her head smacked abruptly against the ceiling of her temporary home. She rubbed her head where it had crashed into the tree. Groaning, she pushed her ebony hair out of her face and ran one hand over her forehead. She was drenched in sweat. She reached over and disentangled herself from her bedroll, then lay on her back on the cool earth. The sky gradually lightened, shining between the intertwining roots around her that arced over her and formed a canopy that became one of the most ancient oak trees in Alagaësia.   


She sighed and rolled over. Rolling up her bedroll, she crawled through the small opening in the trees' roots that served as her front door, blinking as the soft sunlight blinded her. She pulled her long, black hair back with a thin strip of leather and stood. She was short, barely five feet. Her limbs were thin and long for her size, and along with her thin form, she appeared taller than she actually was.   


She walked to a horse that was tethered nearby. It was Lika, her red chestnut mare. A slim strip of white shone in the middle of her nose, her ears perked foreward. Her eyes shone a soft, intelligent shade of brown. The mare shook her head softly, her feathery mane scattering lightly. She blinked softly, stepping foreward on slim, fleet legs. The mare was small for a horse, but the perfect size for her rider.   


The girl untied Lika and mounted, turning her to a faint trail that led south. The forest around her was the oldest forest in Alagaësia. The towering trees that surrounded her were three times as big around as she, and hundreds of times taller. Filtered golden sunlight that managed to escape the thick foliage dotted the forest floor, illuminating the huge leaves and needles of the surrounding trees that had fallen in past years.   


They were near the edge of the huge forest, and the trees were far apart, the going easy. Lika nodded her head contentedly as she walked. Her rider pulled a half loaf of bread and an apple out of her pack, eating them while she traveled. The bread was light and soft, the apple ripe and sweet. She fed the core to Lika and leaned back in the saddle.   


She was content, for a time. The path was soft, the air calm and pleasantly warm. Somewhere above her, a bird chirped happily. Suddenly, a thin, creeping feeling went up her spine, sending her into a state of uncomfortable wariness, an unsettling fear rested in the pit of her stomach. She glanced around; the forest's pleasant airiness turned to shifting closeness as she recalled her early morning dream. The air held a note of intensity comparable to the galvonic air in the pretense of a thunderstorm.   


She shifted Lika into a swift trot; the sudden change in the atmosphere was unsettling, but the intensity and clarity that she remembered those horrors was even more so. She frowned with thin lips, her brooding, blue-gray eyes shining with confusion and a hint of fear. She tucked a lock of her ebony hair behind one ear and patted Lika softly. She glanced up, relieved as the forest came to an end.   


She pulled the mare to a stop and glanced across the wide plain that stretched before her. An endless expanse of blue sky stretched above her, dotted with feathery clouds high in the atmosphere. They were called 'mares' tails', for that was what they looked like. Directly in front of her, south, the plain continued for about six leagues, after which it merged with the Hadarac Desert, which dominated much of the center of Alagaësia. To either side, the plain stretched along the edge of the Du Weldenvarden forest as far as the eye could see.   


She turned right, heading westward along the forest edge. After a few days' journey, she would reach Gil'ead. The large city was a place where hunters gathered to trade in pelts and meat for supplies, as well as a training center for the king's army. She disliked the town's second use, but it served as her gathering spot. Once every month or so, she would leave the wilderness to buy supplies, as well as tools and weapons, if the need arose.   


In the early morning, the horse and rider came upon three deer grazing on the coarse grasses that grew on the borders of the forest. They glanced up, two doe and a buck, eyes wide, and frozen to the spot. She pulled Lika to a stop and slowly, fluidly pulled a bow from her back and knocked an arrow. She let it fly, and it embedded itself in the buck's chest. The doe ran as the magnificent creature fell to the earth.   


She spent the rest of the day curing the hide and preparing the little meat that remind on the animal. It had been a harsh winter, and spring was slow in coming. Two days later, the meat and hide were wrapped in separate cloth, its antlers wrapped with the pelt. She stored them in her saddle bags and continued on her journey to Gil'ead.


	2. Escape

a/n- wow, i wasn't expecting people to respond this enthusiastically! Thanks BUNCHES to the following people who actually reviewed to my stuff:  
  
extracredit- I hope I can continue..I'm already having trouble with it ~_^  
  
mdemanatee- I loved the books too! (hence the reason I'm writing a story..) Did you know they're making a movie out of it? It's coming out in 2005!  
  
uknowwhoslittleprincess- My friend and I have several theories..as soon as I get around to it (probably not soon..i'm lazy :D) I'll send them to you.  
  
Silver Spell- I know, Raven, I know. This chapter is a lot longer, but no Eragon chars. yet :( Definitely next chapter though..I'm trying to work out a few glitches with..what's happening.)  
  
Disclaimer for chapters One and Two: Anything and everything you recognize from the wonderful book of Eragon belongs to the nineteen year old genius Christopher Paolini. He wrote that book when he was fifteen, so that gives me a little more hope of getting something published, as so am I.  
  
* * *  
  
Alzena glanced at the guests. They were so beautiful, so elegant, they seemed to be floating. Their faces were gleeful as they filled the ballroom floor, dancing to the light, quick tunes of the miniature orchestra that her father had rented especially for the occasion. The room was filled mostly with young men and women. She sighed; it was grand, to be sure. But the party's purpose was what had her in a rather depressed state.  
  
Her father was the governer of Teirm. Throughout her life, he had been strict in his upbringing of her. It was the annual coming-of-age ceremony, when all those who were celebrating their sixteenth summer that year would be announced officially as adults. Those girls who did not have appointed husbands yet were also engaged.  
  
She leaned against one of the large, stone columns that lined three ofthe ballroom walls and sighed heavily. Though the young men around her were kind and handsome, the music light and lively, she felt out of place. The ballroom was elaborately decorated in red tapestries lined with gold and the entire room glowed warmly by the large fire on the far wall, as well as large torches set in various places around the room. The fireplace made the columns that formed a small hallway around the other three walls cast large, dark shadows.  
  
Alzena hovered against the smooth surface of one column opposite the fireplace. She glanced to her right, noting that the column was bright and shimmering with firelight. To her left lay the shadows, where light could not reach. She stood right in the middle: the power of choice.  
  
"Bored?" a voice muttered quietly. She gasped, startled, and turned to face the dark side of the column.  
  
"Quite. I've been waiting for you, Kanrin. What is it you had wanted to tell me?" she asked quietly.  
  
He moved slightly so that the firelight caught his face, throwing his hardened face into sharp relief. Firelight caught in his eyes and made them seem to be hot, glowing emeralds. His skin was soft, lightly tanned. He moved his thin, wiry frame in a way that showed strength only gotten from a life of hardship. In the distance, a hound bayed, and a long whinny was carried on a faint breeze through the partially-open window behind them. Kanrin turned to face the direction the sounds had come. Though it was mid- spring, the wind still held a sharp chill.  
  
"I haven't much time. They're on my heels..."  
  
"Are you leaving?" she asked worriedly.  
  
The dog barked loudly, closer this time. Men's voices could be heard shouting in the distance. Kanrin moved closer to the window, his long, black cloak rustling softly. He turned back to face her, moving his cloak behind him with one arm. Tall leather boots covered the bottom of his beige breeches, the frayed ends of a forest-green tunic hung past his waist. A long, thin sword hung from a belt at his waist. The firelight glinted off of his copper-red hair, giving it more of a metallic tint than usual. Though his face was hard and determined, care and affection shone from his eyes.  
  
"I must. I bring danger to you and all those here as long as I'm around. I must go," he said gently.  
  
"Then please, let me go with you!"  
  
"No!" he said harshly his brow creasing angrily. His gaze softened, "No..Alzena, it is better for you here. You are safe, and with people who love you."  
  
"Better for me? How can you say that? This manor is like a cage to me. It's bars are only getting smaller..I am trapped. I cannot stay here." She lowered her gaze and turned away from him.  
  
He walked slowly over to her, and took her chin in his hand, lifting it. She slowly moved her shimmering golden eyes up to meet his. His jaw was set, but his expression was caring.  
  
"I will return for you, Alzena. Please stay."  
  
"I can't, Kanrin. I can't stand to stay here any longer. Let me come with you, we can live together forever!"  
  
"Even if you were to come with me, you are not dressed for riding, nor for travel," he said gently.  
  
Alzena ruffled the skirt of her dress absently; it was soft white, the hem decorated ornately with gold thread. The dress hugged her slim form to her waist, where it cascaded in folds of silky white fabric. The long sleeves clung tightly to her arms to the elbow, then flared widely, hanging gracefully by her side; the ends were decorated similarly to the hem. Her dark hair was pulled up in large, neat curls, and two hung down to frame her soft face. The collar of the dress was decorated in the same manor as the hem, and stretched softly over her upper arms, leaving her shoulders bare. The attire was completed by a golden circlet around her head.  
  
The voices were now much louder. The pounding of many hooves on cobblestone echoed in the large chamber, but was overwhelmed by the orchestra before it could alarm the guests. Kanrin moved closer to the window, glancing across the lawn for signs of his pursuers. His fiery chestnut stallion snorted softly below them, alarmed slightly by the loud baying of the approaching hounds. He turned back to Alzena.  
  
"Please don't worry yourself over me. I promise, I will return for you. They are catching up..I must go."  
  
He hugged her briefly; she clutched at his cloak and willed the tears not to come, but they fell anyway. He drew away from her, and held her at arm's length. He ran one thumb across her cheek.  
  
"Don't cry. This isn't goodbye. We will meet again."  
  
"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice shaking.  
  
"I am bound for Gil'ead."  
  
Kanrin turned and climbed out the window, a narrow ledge the only thing separating him from a two-story drop. He carefully positioned himself and dropped, landing heavily on the back of his horse. He rode foreward a few paces, then turned to look at her one last time. He raised one hand, pulled the hood of his cloak over his face, and spurred the stallion into a swift gallop across the lawn. She watched him until the light of the full moon could no longer show the horse and rider, then closed the window and moved through the small hallway formed by the smooth columns, out of the glow of the firelight.  
  
Suddenly, she turned back to the window, her expression grim and determined. She gave a short nod, and slipped out unnoticed. She walked through brightly lit stone corridors, past studies and libraries. She reached the end of the hall and climbed a spiral staircase, up one flight. She stepped off in a corridor, the floor covered in a thick red carpet.  
  
She pushed open a large oak door and entered a large room, closing the door behind her. She latched it, and turned to find herself in a small study, with large, comfortable chairs situated around the room. The floor was covered in a large, white carpet, the borders decorated with gold. The wall on her left was covered with tall bookshelves full of her favorite books. The right wall was bare, save for a large fireplace. Directly opposite her, a large bay window covered nearly the entire wall. The moon hung among the stars in front of her, a shimmering, silver orb amid pinpricks of light. Their light was reflected off of the ocean that lay on Teirm's western border.  
  
Alzena walked over to the bay window and sat on the cushioned seat. She didn't know how long she had been sitting there, lost in thought, before one of the maids came and gently shook her arm.  
  
"Miss? Are you ready for your supper?" the girl asked. Alzena remained quiet for a few minutes, undecisive. Then her confidence restored, and she knew there was no turning back.  
  
"Yes..but please only bring up a few loaves of bread and some apples. I'm going to bathe, so just leave it on the table," she quickly lied.  
  
"Alright, miss..." the maid turned and left the room through the large door Alzena had entered.  
  
She stood from the bay window and walked to a small door that was nearly hidden by the bookshelves. She walked through, into a room a little smaller than the study. A large canopy bed covered the far wall. Thin white curtains were drawn across, hiding the bed. She strode over to a bureau on the opposite side of the bed and opened the bottom drawer. She pulled out a small deerskin pack, into which she hastily shoved three pairs of breeches, as well as a few tunics. Some rope was tossed in after that, followed by a folded map of Alagaësia.  
  
She changed into a pair of fawn-colored breeches and pulled on a royal blue tunic. A thin belt went around her waist, the buckle made of silver. She looked into the large mirror over the bureau and pulled off her circlet, setting it on the top of the bureau. She then picked up a brush and proceeded to brush out all of the curls from her dark brown locks. When she was finished, it flowed gracefully from her head in large waves, just past her shoulders. Regardless of her looks, she pulled it back with a small strip of leather. She walked into a small door next to her bed, where a large bathtub was situated in the center, a stone washbasin next to it.  
  
She poured water into the basin from a ceramic pitcher next to it and splashed her face from it. All the stately paleness washed away, revealing tanned, lightly freckled skin. A few dampened wisps of hair escaped the leather strip, and hung loosely around her face.  
  
She returned to her study and found four loaves of bread and six apples waiting for her on a platter. She sat on the large, comfortable chair next to the low table and carefully put the food into her pack, then slung it onto her back. This done, she carefully looked around for the maid and walked over to the fireplace, picking up a torch from a large vase next to it. She grabbed the trim around the fireplace and pulled, revealing a very small, spiraling staircase.  
  
It wound down, down, down. She started to get dizzy with the swift pace she was descending. The stairway was narrow, barely wide enough for her. The steps were small and damp; several times she almost slipped. Finally, she reached the bottom, and pushed open a small wooden door. The staircase had taken her three stories downward. She crawled out of the door and closed it, leaning against it heavily to catch her breath. The door blended seamlessly with the exterior of the manor. She breathed the cold night air, her breath coming out in a hazy white cloud.  
  
Alzena felt refreshed, and set off for the long, rectangular building in front of her. She gently pushed open the wooden door and entered the stable, immediately finding herself in the tack room. One boy, a little older than she, with thick blonde hair, turned around at the sound of her entry.  
  
"Goin' for another night ride, Miss Tamíer?" he asked with a sly grin.  
  
"No..I'm leaving for good. I've had it."  
  
"You goin' with that guy, Kanrin?"  
  
"I'm following him, yes. Damien, could you do one final thing for me?"  
  
"Of course, Miss Tamíer," replied Camien.  
  
"One, please don't call me 'Miss Tamíer'. My name is Alzena. Also, please don't mention anything about this to my father, or anyone else!" she said pleadingly.  
  
"Of course not, M- Alzena. It would only be fair, after what you did for me with my parents and all," Damien replied.  
  
Alzena smiled, picked up a light saddle and bridle, and walked into the stable. On either side of her, the noses of curious horses peered over their half-doors at her. She walked over to her light gray mare, Breshá, and saddled her, then strapped her pack onto the back of the saddle. She led Breshá to the double doors of the stable and mounted, ready to leave. Damien walked up to her, a small array of items with him. He handed her a long, light blue cloak.  
  
"Where did you get this? I thought I'd lost it," she asked, fondly running her hand across the smooth, thick material.  
  
"You left it in here a while back, when you were in a rush to get inside," Damien replied simply. He passed up a long, thin scabbard. She withdrew a thin, supple sword from it, and held it up to examine it in the torchlight that lit the stable aisle.  
  
"And this?"  
  
" 'Twas a gift to me, but I have no use for it. I figured that Kanrin could teach you, once you caught him."  
  
"Thank-you, Damien. I'll certainly owe you, if we ever meet again."  
  
"Think nothing of it, Alzena. You just have a safe journey, and make good use of that sword and cloak, and I'll consider it payment enough," he replied, smiling. His soft blue eyes danced merrily in the firelight.  
  
"You are a true friend," she said, putting on the cloak. She pulled the hood up to cover her head and put the sword back in it's scabbard, then strapped it to her waist.  
  
"Now you go, Alzena, before they discover you missing. Goodbye!" he said, and slapped Breshá on the hindquarter. The gray mare abruptly surged into a quick canter, her ears pricked foreward excitedly, and they rode off into the darkness.  
  
* * *  
  
a/n- There's a simple process that almost all writers follow. They write and post, the readers review. Then, the writers write and post again. There can't really be one without the other..  
  
So review! ~_^  
  
It'll be my birthday a week from Sunday, so maybe if I get enough reviews *hint hint* I'll post another chapter then...  
  
peaces!  
-Amy 


	3. Bloodshed

disclaimer: anything you recognise from Eragon isn't mine, including but not limited to Alagaësia, Eragon, Saphira, Murtagh, Ajihad, Gil'ead, Carvahall, Du Weldenvarden, etc.   


* * *   


a/n- this story is set a long time after the first book.   


Great big thank-you's to the following people. This is the most-reviewed fanfic I've ever written.   


Silver Spell- it's alright that you forgot....just remember, what goes around comes around! heh heh heh.....j/k :P Sixteen in four days! woo hoo! ~_^ yeah....._real_ big achievement.........lol...

dracokyn88- Eragon definitely needs its own section! We need to protest....or something....   


that's it? two? ah well. REVIEW, people!   


* * *   


They had done it. Galbatorix was defeated.   


Eragon and Saphira flew over the battle, the Final Battle, that waged below. He felt oddly removed, as though he were merely an onlooker of an event of long ago. The huge armies had been split into skirmishes, only half of which were visible by the torches and fires strewn about the plain. The flickering firelight tainted Urgals, men, elves, and dwarves. The light occasionally caught the undersides of evil creatures that had developed in the dark, unknown depths of the earth as they flew overhead.   


Eragon had never before seen such creatures. They had tough, leathery skin and wings like a bat's, each with a claw at the joints. Two large, thick lower legs trailed behind them as they flew, as well as a long, thin tail.   


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Undersized deformed mockery of a dragon, Saphira had said when they had first spotted one.   


The swift movements of a sword reflecting firelight caught his eye. Murtagh fought bravely, nearly outnumbered, from the back of Tornac. Although his movements were swift and his blade accurate, Eragon knew that his friend was weary. They all were; the battle had waged for nearly four days.   


Saphira curled her upper lip in a snarl, small tendrils of flame escaping her nostrils. Eragon turned his attention back to the wretched man and his dragon. The creature, huge and formidable, hovered about a hundred feet in front of them. Every square inch of both Shreikun and Galbatorix was covered in thick, black iron armor, except for the dragon's wings.   


The king clenched the knuckles of his right hand, which grasped the hilt of his deadly sword. Small plates of armor had been formed to overlap one another, allowing his hands free movement. Despite the staggering weight of both his armor and that of his rider's, the dragon's wings beat little and smoothly, as though he were flying freely with nothing to hinder him. He and Saphira circled the battle slowly to maintain altitude. The king's huge, ominous black castle loomed several hundred feet to the north.   


Suddenly, Eragon's mind nearly exploded as someone forced entry to his mind. Some of the invaders' emotions flooded into his subconcious, clouding his concentration. Overwhelming fear and panic threatened to consume him as a female's voice, normally recognized as calm and melodic, half-shouted to him in his mind.   


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Eragon! she said. It was Arya. _I need you and Saphira! We are outnumbered!_   


He impulsively shot a sideways glance at his airborne enemy. Galbatorix moved his sword in small circles, anticipating his next move.   


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Saphira, Arya needs us. Should we help her? he asked.   


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It may not be wise to turn from Galbatorix. The powerful sparkling blue neck in front of him turned to glance in the direction of Arya. Shreikan saw this break in concentration and lunged toward them, his huge, dripping fangs bared as his powerful wings propelled him toward his target. His fiery red eyes narrowed, the claws of his powerful upper arms clenched tightly.   


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Saphira, watch out! Eragon called to her as he gripped the leather saddle tightly. She lifted her wings and beared right, sweeping her wings downward, thrusting them upward and out of the reach of Shreikan's jaws. Saphira curled her upper lip into a snarl and snorted out small curls of flame and smoke. The shadow dragon shot below them, his long neck twisting to glance up at them, his fangs bared in pure hatred. Saphira took advantage of the few seconds it would take the dragon to reposition to fly toward them once more. Shreikan blew a short burst of flame in irritation as the two fled. Galbatorix laughed maniacally, his deep voice echoing through Eragon.   


"Is poor little Eragon afraid of the big bad dragon?" he said tauntingly. "Is this all he and his little hatchling can come up with?" His words tore through Eragon like a razor. He set his jaw and prepared to turn Saphira back toward him.   


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No, Eragon. Let it go, we must help Arya! Saphira urged him. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, but vowed revenge for the insult Galbatorix had made to both he and Saphira.   


Saphira flew as quickly as she could, but she had only made it a few hundred feet when Shreikan and his evil Rider approached them quickly from behind. Eragon, concentrating only on finding Arya, did not notice the looming form behind them. Saphira caught sight of them in the corner of her eye.   


She pulled up, beating her wings in front of her to slow herself down. She twisted her body around just as Galbatorix's blade lunged foreward.   


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Saphira! Eragon screamed as his magnificent dragon plummeted to the earth, the huge blade embedded in her chest. He could sense the excrutiating pain tearing through her mind, seconds before her form slammed into the ground, pinning him and several Urgals underneath her. An intense ringing filled his ears as the breath was knocked from his body, and he slipped into unconciousness.   


* * *   


Arya walked anxiously back and fourth. Her creamy skin was even paler than usual with worry. She had bags under her eyes from a severe lack of sleep. There had only been one thing on her mind for three days and nights.   


The elf glanced anxiously at the door, her face sober. The sadness and loss in her heart was overwhelming. It took all of her will to hold back the sorrowful tears which threatened to fall.   


She ran her fingers through her long midnight air, all of her attention was on the door in front of her. The healers had been attending to Eragon and Saphira since the end of the battle, tending the fatal wound inflicted by the sword that had been driven into the gallant dragon's heart. Eragon was in extremely critical condition; he had been found crushed under Saphira, the left side of his chest was completely caved in. The situation was tedious; if one was lost, they both were. She prayed to the gods that they survived.   


She glanced at the door as it slowly swung open. Her immortal heart froze for a few moments. Her soft blue eyes widened and a single tear trickled down her smooth, pale face as Angela and the other healers stepped out.   


Angela had a sober look on her face. Arya feared the worst and believed that the fearless dragon and her courageous rider had been lost. A few people gathered around her and Murtagh walked slowly over to stand next to her. He gently laid a hand on her shoulder, but Arya tore free, backing a few steps away. "No!" she cried out in anguish.   


"He's not dead yet," said Angela in a grave voice. "But he's in a comatose state right now, he may not make it."   


She was both relieved and frightened to hear this. "Let me through!" she demanded. He tried to make her way through the healers, but Murtagh grabbed her shoulder and the Elven healer, Silban, held up one hand.   


"Entering now will neither help him, nor harm him," warned Silban. "You would be better off waiting here."   


"Let me through," said Arya in a cold, emotional voice.   


Silban shook his head sternly. She seemed to shrink as she silently admitted defeat.   


"What of Saphira?" she asked quietly, her voice dull and unemotional.   


"The blade narrowly missed her heart. It is taking some time and much skill, but she will hopefully survive," Angela said gravely.   


Arya nodded and allowed Murtagh to direct her toward a soft armchair. He sat in another chair next to her, brooding silently. He, too, was concerned for his friend's well-being. Ajihad joined them for some time, then left. Occasionally, Angela or one of the other healers would come out of the room for a brief time to rest and give comfort to them. Though their words were kind and helpful, they did nothing to ease the knot that had formed in the pit of her stomach.   


After what seemed like an eternity, though it was really only three or four hours, all seven healers exited the room. Their faces were taught, their eyes showing their weariness, as well as the bags under their eyes. They were expressionless as they approached the two.   


Arya stood and strode over to them. Her breath was caught in her throat as she awaited the news that the healers had brought. Murtagh, too, stood behind her. The first light of dawn shone through the room's only window, illuminating the golden wood floor, the soft, thick carpet that covered the center of the small room. Angela stood in the front and center of the healers, her _expression grim. Arya's eyes widened and the knot that had been steadily forming in her stomach lodged in her throat, and she once again feared the worst.   


* * *   


maybe a cliffhanger will encourage reviews....   


death threats, health threats, money threats, theft threats, threat threats....chaos, destruction, maniacal confusion........   


sounds like fun! FLAME MEH, OH MIGHTY FLAMERS!!!   


lol.......i'll seriously be ok someday........i think...........i hope.....   


seriously though. Flamers, reviewers...i don't care i just want FEEDBACK.   


so please use the little button down there and tell me what you thought of it. i promise i won't bite........   


hard.   


~_^ j/k 


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